Splintered Hearts
by Gea
Summary: Set during DMC. A simple splinter leads Elizabeth to acknowledge a few important things about herself and Jack. Sparrabeth. ONESHOT


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean and you know it.

Elizabeth hissed through clenched teeth as she began to pull the ghastly wooden splinter from her aching palm. Seeing as it would not budge without bringing her to tears, she shifted slightly in her seat while contemplating a different approach.

It had only been but a few days since she'd boarded the _Black Pearl_ in order to search out and rescue her fiancée with the help of Jack Sparrow. Skeptical, of course, when he insisted he had nothing to do with Will's imprisonment aboard the Flying Dutchman. But still, agreeing to travel with him to find this chest would surely lead her somewhere.

The dawn was breaking far off into the horizon, casting a pale light over the quiet ship whose serenity would surely rupture once the crew woke to tend to their ship duties. The last thing she wished for was to be on display when they would hurry up on deck to see her seated on the stairs, fretting over a splinter like a hopeless child. Again, she jerked at the thick shard but the pain was unbearable and she let out a yelp.

"I imagine that must hurt quite a bit." Startled, she glanced up to see Jack resting an arm against the stair railing. The rising sun in the distance bathed him in its glow, veiling his dark eyes with a glaze. Elizabeth drew her open hand close to her chest in an almost possessive manner. He curled around the corner then crept up the stairs, seating himself a few steps below her.

"May I ask as to how such a hideously painful wound came to pass?" His velvety voice was soothing to her ears. She assumed this was partly due to grogginess from awakening.

"Just carelessness," she uttered while tracing over the skin surrounding the injury with her fingertip. A moment of silence ensued while Elizabeth made patterns along the creases in her hand. An uncomfortable feeling swept over her when she sensed he was staring but she decided against a snapping remark. It was far too early in the morning to get into a worthless argument.

"Well then," he began while taking a stand, "I suppose we should take it out." Her face fell into a baffled and alarmed expression.

"You don't honestly think I'm going to let _you_ tend to this," she protested while he disappeared into his cabin.

"Well, I doubt it will take itself out," he hollered from inside before staggering back out onto the deck while she scrambled to her feet, "And seeing as your attempts have been futile, I think you'd agree that you have no other choice." She sneered at the remark before noting the objects he carried. Fixed in his grasp was a tattered piece of cloth wrapped around the neck of a rum bottle. Placing it on the rail, he then waved her over to him. Jack exhaled sharply when she didn't budge.

"Come on now love, I'm not going to bite," he assured her as his lips curled into a smirk. Her eyes wandered aimlessly for a moment before she lurched towards him. Taking her hand into his own, he gently spread her thumb away from her palm to observe the wound. It was undeniable that his touch sent Elizabeth's knees into a weak quiver that she struggled to steady.

"What are you doing?" she gasped and began to pull away as he carefully pressed his thumb near the base of the splinter.

"I'm going to have to squeeze it out." His voice was surprisingly calm and comforting which eased the anxiety rising within her. "You're going to have to trust me on this one, Lizzie." Their eyes met, sending her heart aflutter. There were a number of lies she could have told herself to deny the security she felt when she was around him, but it seemed pointless.

Elizabeth nodded with a weary smile before shutting her eyes as the pressure of his fingers returned. A sudden burning sensation shot through her palm. This hurt far worst than when Barbossa slit the very same hand open. She hadn't noticed but she had clutched his hand when the pain intensified. A few stray tears fell down her cheeks at the same time she began whimpering without any control over her emotions.

Finally, the stress ceased. She opened her eyes blurred with tears to see the splinter removed but his gentle grip still remaining. "There we are," he began with a smile. Swallowing down what ridiculous panic was left and rubbing away tears to regain her dignity, she dared not split from his hold.

"I'm assuming injuries like this are nothing new to you," she commented as he reached over to the ledge and grabbed the bottle. He shrugged.

"When you work on a ship for as long as I have, nuisances like these tend to become common."

"Oh," seemed all she could say, embarrassed that she had dreaded something so trivial.

"Quite a bugger that one was, though," his eyes flashed to the piece of wood lying on the rail while she contemplated whether his words were an act of empathy or just plain fact.

"Now, this is going to sting a bit, love, so you're going to have to trust me once more," he cautioned before he uncorked the bottle. This time, she worried not of the oncoming pain she'd have to endure.

"I trust you." Her slip of the tongue caught his attention for a brief moment before she stuttered an explanation, "I – I mean for helping my wound, that is." She expected some smart-mouthed remark but he simply smiled genuinely and poured the alcohol over the gash. Her immediate reaction was to fling her hand in the air and cuss through her teeth – which gave Jack an amused smirk to hearing such language from the governor's daughter.

The throbbing sensation she felt deadened as he caught her hand in his own again and began tying the piece of cloth around it. She had half expected his hands to be as rough - if not rougher than – Will's handling had been but instead, his movements with smooth; treating her hand as if it were a delicate jewel. Her awestruck gaze quickly turned to a confused one while he concentrated on tying the final knot. She found it difficult to understand these new feelings brewing inside her. Elizabeth bit her lip; all that seemed to cross her mind was Jack's compass and how it pointed to him but a few days prior.

"And that's that," he released her hand which startled her from her thoughts. She watched as it fell to her side, sudden disappointment clouding her heart. When she looked up again, she caught him gazing at her. But before she could say anything, he turned away without a word. There had been something there in his eyes, she had noticed. Could it have been longing? This thought was far too unlikely for her to actually believe. This was Jack Sparrow; the rogue who women yearned over yet he yearned for none in return. Foolish to think such, she insisted to herself. Still though… it was impossible for her to ignore.

"Jack," she blurted out, jerking to her right to see him halted in his tracks across the deck. She smiled. "Thank you." It took him a moment before he nodded politely.

"It was my pleasure," he mirrored her grin though she found his smile had a much more dismal look to it than anything.

Elizabeth watched as he staggered off before she propped her elbows up on the banister and welcomed the ocean breeze and beaming sunlight upon her face. There was a rumbling below deck that could only mean the crew was awake. Another day would go by and bring them that much closer to finding the chest. Suddenly feeling curious, she grasped Jack's compass tucked under her coat and watched the needle rock back and forth. As it swung to a stop, she cast a concerned glance over her shoulder in Jack's direction which coincided with the compass' path. _'It points to what you want most in this world,' _Elizabeth shut her eyes as Jack's words echoed through her mind, the breeze caressing her face almost sympathetically.


End file.
